


Both Alike in Dignity

by clare_dragonfly



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Falling In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 17:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare_dragonfly/pseuds/clare_dragonfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christie and Alak: behind the scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Both Alike in Dignity

Christie didn’t mean for it to happen.

It wasn’t just that he was an entirely different species. It wasn’t just that her father hated his father. It wasn’t just that being the mother to her own family made her loyal, not interested in being part of anyone else’s.

It was that everything was uncertain now—and had been for all of her life. All of both of their lives. The Arks were still falling. There were hellbugs outside Defiance, hundreds of unpredictable people inside it. If you tried to go anywhere else you’d run into crazy terraformed land. If you stayed inside there were diseases, accidents…

It was a bad time to fall in love.

But maybe all that was exactly why she’d done it anyway.

—

They’d met in the market. That had been the important meeting, anyway; they’d always been aware of each other, children of the two wealthiest families in Defiance. But they’d carefully avoided each other before, much as the rest of their families avoided each other—except, of course, when their fathers argued so loudly in the street that it almost brought the whole town to blows. Until that day.

The apples had been warm and sweet-looking, blushing pink and streaked with color. Christie was supposed to be shopping for dinner, but she was allowed to get a few treats if she liked. She’d set down her basket of vegetables and potatoes and reached for one apple, round and mouthwatering. Her knuckles had brushed the hand of someone else, someone reaching for the same apple.

She’d looked up into pale, pale eyes, a white face framed with dark-dyed hair, and been astonished. Was this really Alak Tarr? Had it really been so many years since she’d noticed him that she didn’t realize he’d grown a foot and gained sculpted cheekbones and full lips?

It had.

“Christie McCawley?” he asked, his voice breathless and sounding as astonished as she felt.

She tried to hold in the laughter she felt bubbling up—nervous or excited, she wasn’t sure. She glanced away and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Alak Tarr,” she said. It seemed the only appropriate response.

And then he caught her hand, the one that was still hovering over the apple. He bent over it and kissed the knuckles so lightly she wasn’t sure she’d felt it at first. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

He straightened up, but didn’t let go of her hand. His pale blue eyes seemed so deep, full of meaning. “I just never noticed before how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “But it wouldn’t be appropriate to kiss your face before we’ve even spoken.”

She felt herself flushing, deep and warm.

“So if you’re not going to buy any apples,” came the annoyed voice of the Liberata stallkeeper, “would you get out of the way? Other people want to look.”

Christie and Alak both giggled nervously. Alak let go of her hand, then picked up the apple they’d both reached for and pressed it into her palm. He picked a different apple, then ostentatiously tossed the stallkeeper a bill—one they knew would buy a dozen apples.

As they walked away, Christie tucking the apple in to her basket, she said, “You know, wealth doesn’t impress me. I’ve got as much of it as you do.”

He grinned. “I know. But I notice you let me pay for it.”

She shrugged. “What was I going to do, stand there and argue about it? Me point is, if you’re trying to impress me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Maybe I don’t want to impress you.” He took a bite of his apple. It made a juicy, mouthwatering crunch. “Maybe I just want to be able to be myself around you.”

“Can’t you do that normally?”

He looked down at the apple, rolling it back and forth in his hand. “Not necessarily. Not around my parents.”

Christie nodded. She understood perfectly. “I have to watch what I say around my dad, too.” They shared a smile. They both knew their parents would flip out if they knew their children were having this conversation. “So you like apples?”

“Yeah.” He took another, smaller bite, slurping up the juice. “My parents think they’re stupid human food, but it’s not like I’ve ever known anything different. I was born on this world, same as you.”

She reached into her basket and took a bite of her apple. It tasted just like it sounded. She savored it for a moment before speaking. “Apples were my mom’s favorite fruit. She said there used to be a lot more varieties of them. Maybe there still are, some places, where the terraforming didn’t hit.”

“Different varieties? What would they be like?”

She sucked a piece of skin out from between her teeth. “Different color skin, more tart or more sweet, more or less crispy. Though I don’t think anything could be crispier than this apple.” She crunched another bite, enjoying the burst of flavor on her tongue.

They began to climb the hill leading to Edmund’s Grove; she hadn’t really noticed where they were going until now, but this made sense. No one who would judge them was likely to see them here. And it was always nice in the shade of the trees.

Alak leaned against the trunk of a tree, one arm up above his head to brace himself. “I don’t think this is what fruit was like back on Casti. It was all sour or something. That’s the only kind of fruit my parents like.”

Christie shook her head. “I guess you’ll never know.”

“No. Not for sure.” He sighed and chewed his apple for a moment. “My parents want me to be the perfect Castithan man. But I don’t even know what that’s supposed to be anymore. Is it so awful to want to live on Earth, to fit in here like it’s where I belong? I don’t want to become a human. I just want to live among them.”

“I don’t think that’s awful.” Christie sat down cross-legged at the base of the tree and patted the ground next to her. He smiled briefly and sat, his knee just touching hers. “My father doesn’t complain much about life being different from before the Votans came, thankfully, though I can tell he misses it. I think he planned for different things in his life.”

“What’s he complaining about?” Alak rolled his eyes. “He’s rich now. Maybe the richest man in town.”

“I could say the same about your father.”

“I know. I do, on a regular basis.” Alak smirked. “Not to his face, of course.”

Christie giggled and covered her mouth. She shouldn’t be laughing about powerful men like Rafe McCawley and Datak Tarr. “To your mom?”

“Sometimes. Why do you ask?”

Christie looked down at the ground. “I miss my mom even though I never really knew her. I guess… I kind of want to know what your relationship with your mom is like. Whether you get along.”

“We do. Most of the time. She…” He sighed. “Both my parents work hard to make it so my life is easier than theirs was, but I think my mom understands what I actually want better than my dad does.”

Alak reached the few inches over and took Christie’s hand. She felt her heartbeat speed up. “I think she would like you,” he said.

She looked up at his serious face. “Your mom?”

He nodded. “If she got a chance to talk to you. Like I am.”

She smiled shyly. “Like you like me?”

“Yeah.” He leaned close, his face still serious, his eyes locked on hers. Her heartbeat fluttered. Closer, closer, until his lips just brushed hers—she closed her eyes, and leaned into his kiss, and pressed her lips hard against his. He made a surprised noise in his throat and squeezed her hand.

After a moment they broke apart. “Did you get what you wanted?” she asked.

He jerked back, hurt in his eyes. She immediately regretted her teasing words. “I did not ask anything of you,” he began stiffly.

She shook her head and freed her hand from his to touch his lips, make him stop talking. “I just meant what you said before. You said you wanted to be yourself around me.”

“Oh.” His eyes softened. They were so expressive, for all their paleness. “Yeah, I guess I did. What about you?”

She grinned into her apple. “I guess I did too.” She hadn’t known what she wanted. Maybe she hadn’t wanted anything. But whatever she wanted, she had it now.

They finished their apples and threw the cores down the hill. Christie wiped her apple-juice fingers on her pants, wanting to lick them clean like she normally did but shy beneath Alak’s gaze. They stood, then she bent to lift her basket. Alak hurried to help her with it, but when her fingers closed on the handle, his didn’t let go. “I should offer to carry this home for you,” he said awkwardly. “That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “You know you can’t do that. Besides.” She pulled until he let it go. “I can manage perfectly well on my own. I like you, but I don’t want to be dependent on you.”

He smiled. “I guess that’s one of the reasons I like you, too.”

They walked back down the hill. “I wish I could walk you home,” he said.

She shook her head. “My dad or Luke would probably come out with a weapon.”

“But I’ll see you again.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a teasing smile. “It’s a pretty big town. We may not run into each other again.”

He seized her hand and kissed her knuckles again, this time with a nearly bruising force. “I will see you again,” he muttered into her skin. “That’s a promise.”

“Okay,” she whispered, nearly overwhelmed by his fervor. “Thank you.”

—

“Where have you been?” her father grunted at her when she came in the house. He wasn’t even looking at her, but reading the newspaper.

“Shopping, like I said.” She was pretty sure her secret didn’t show in her voice. She’d hidden secrets from him before—though never one this big. “I’m not late, am I?”

“Ask Bertie. She’s the one cooking.”

Christie made her way into the kitchen, where their Liberata housekeeper waited. “Hi, Bertie. Got some vegetables and stuff.” She set the basket down on the table.

“Took you long enough,” said Bertie, peering into the basket.

“I was getting some bargain,” she improvised. Bertie continued to grumble as Christie left, but she was used to that sort of thing.

“Hey, kid,” Luke called to her from the doorway of his cluttered bedroom. “You were out a while. Got yourself a new boyfriend?”

She put her hands on her hips and grinned at her older brother. “Like I’d tell you.” She’d had a few boyfriends before, never very serious—just like Alak was, she told herself firmly. A few romantic walks, a few kisses shared, twice a little further than that. Luke actually did know about them and had promised to punished any if they broke her heart. But she could never tell him about this.

“Just watching out for you,” he said. There was something sad in his eyes. “You keep yourself safe.”

“I always do.” Impulsively, she stepped closer and gave him a brief hug. “And if I screw up, I know where to turn.”

He ruffled her hair. “You got that right, kid.”

—

Christie loved her father, and the mine was wonderful, and she appreciated what he’d done for her and her brothers, how he kept them all fed and clothed and safe. But she still wanted her independence from him—him and any other man who might try to make her dependent. That was why she’d gotten the job as waitress at the Dining Car. Not the most prestigious or well-paying of jobs, but maybe that was why she liked it.

The old-fashioned vibe it gave off attracted an almost exclusively human clientele. So when she saw a Castithan push the door open, even if it hadn’t been for his unique dark hair, she would have known who it was.

She busied herself pouring coffee for a tired-looking couple with two small children. No need to make Alak think she’d been looking out the window and wishing for him all day. Even though she had.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him seat himself at a booth near the door. This time of day, she was the only one working out front; there wasn’t any danger of anyone else trying to serve him, so she pretended to ignore him. Let him wait.

It was only a few minutes before he called out loudly, but with laughter in his voice, “Hey, can I get some service around here or what?”

She immediately went over to his booth, keeping her eyes cast down, coffee pot at the ready in her hand. “Of course, sir. What can I get you? Coffee?” Her hand hovered over his empty cup until he grasped her wrist, gently but firmly, making her gasp and spill just a little coffee into the cup.

“Something hot,” he said. “But not that coffee.”

Christie covered her mouth to smother laughter. “Alak, that is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I thought it would make me sound more human,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

She pulled her wrist out of his grasp enough that she wouldn’t spill the coffee again. “I don’t want you to sound human.” She glanced around at the diner, decided that it was empty enough that she could take a break, and slid into the seat across from Alak. “Nobody acts like humans are supposed to anymore. At least, according to my dad.”

Alak grinned. “I knew we had a lot in common. My dad always complains about no one acting like a proper Castithan anymore. Except for him, of course.” He reached over and took her hand. She hadn’t noticed that she’d left it lying on the table, but she found she didn’t mind.

“I don’t think we should make anything official,” she said softly. “No public dates. Our fathers will freak out too much.”

He nodded, his face going serious. “I hate it, but I agree.” He paused, his eyes moving back and forth, seeming to roam her face. “I never thought…” He shook his head, grimacing as though he couldn’t find the words.

“I know,” she said.

“What we should probably do, to be honest and safe and good children, is stop this now and never see each other again,” he said. His pupils contracted with pain.

She squeezed his hand. “We should. But I don’t want to do that. And does it really matter what our fathers want? They can’t stop us?”

He inhaled and looked away. “My father might,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?”

He looked back at her, straight into her eyes, and lowered his voice so she had to lean in to hear him. “My father kills people. When he needs to. When he wants to.”

Christie felt a shock run down her spine. “He wouldn’t kill you,” she stated softly.

“No,” he said. “And he wouldn’t kill you, I don’t think. You’re just a human girl. To him, I mean.” She nodded to encourage him to go on. “But he might kill someone else to scare us.”

She bit her lip.

“If you want to go with the safe plan now…” he began.

She shook her head quickly, feeling her eyes fill with tears. Yes, she was frightened of Alak’s father. But she wasn’t frightened of Alak. Maybe she was even more determined now. Even though this was not the relationship she should have, even though they were different species and different places in life and different everything… well, it was a new world now, wasn’t it? And her heart squeezed in her chest at the thought of going back to the way things had been with Alak just two days ago.

She wouldn’t say the word _love_ yet. Not even to herself. But it was there.

“Let’s just be subtle,” she said. She looked around. “Speaking of which, I’ve got to get back to work. You probably should order something.”

“Sure.” He slowly released her hand and leaned back in his seat, a grin re-emerging on his face. “Bring me whatever’s most popular. I’ll find out what humans like to eat.”

—

They were subtle. For a while.

They would meet on Edmund Grove, both coming from different directions, to sit and talk softly. They would see each other from across the street and smile, just catch each other’s eyes before moving on, but they both knew what it meant. Christie would find excuses to go out to the Hollows, go to dance parties, the same sort of things her brothers would do so it wasn’t suspicious. Alak would visit the mine to haggle over prices for raw gulanite. (He usually overpaid.)

Then they met eyes across the street one too many times, and Luke noticed.

He grabbed Christie’s upper arm in an iron grip and propelled her straight home. She knew better than to talk until they’d gotten somewhere private—her room, which had the advantage of being cleaner than his. Then she tore her arm from his grip and turned on him to glare. “Don’t you manhandle me like that.”

“Oh, I see, you’d rather have that haint manhandle you?”

Blood rose to her cheeks in shock and embarrassment. “Luke McCawley, that’s a nasty word and you know it. I don’t want to hear you using it for any Castithan.”

“Stop trying to sound like our mother,” he spat.

Tears filled her eyes. She shoved his shoulders. “I’ll sound like anything I want. I don’t know what our mother sounded like.”

He stepped back at her push, then came forward again and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Hey. Christie. I’m sorry. That was a mean thing to say.”

She sniffed but didn’t pull away. He was her big brother, after all. “Yeah, it was.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I just freaked out, seeing you look at him like that. I don’t want to let him control you.”

She took a deep breath, trying to check her tears. “He doesn’t control me. He won’t. He’s much too kind for that.” He’s the only man I know who doesn’t try to control me, she didn’t add. She didn’t want to hurt Luke, even if it was sort of true.

He tightened his arms around her. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe.”

“Okay.” He let go of her and exhaled. “Be careful, please, Christie. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She nodded as he turned and left her room. Her stomach twisted. Somehow she was afraid that if she was going to get hurt, it was going to be her family that did it.

—

“Luke knows,” she told Alak the next time they managed to snatch a few minutes together, twined in each other’s arms under a heavy-laden fruit tree.

“I know,” he muttered. “He threatened me.”

She stiffened. “What? When?”

“This morning. He came to the Hollows and found me.”

She couldn’t tell whether the fear or the anger was greater in her. “What did he say?”

“Stupid stuff. It doesn’t matter.” He nuzzled her neck, making her relax a little. “You know, don’t touch my baby sister sort of stuff.”

“You didn’t listen, I guess.”

“Of course not. I’m not afraid of him.

“He didn’t say anything about telling my dad, did he?”

“No. Nor mine. So we’re probably safe.”

If Luke had planned to tell their father about her relationship with Alak, he probably would have done it the night before, when he’d found out himself. He’d been quiet at dinner, but that wasn’t anything unusual. She didn’t need to worry. At least not for now.

Besides, Alak’s hand was sliding under her shirt and onto the skin of her stomach, and that was a much more fascinating thing to focus on.

—

Of course Luke didn’t let go of it then. He couldn’t trust his own damn sister to tell him when she was and wasn’t safe.

She didn’t realize he was following her until that night at the dance, when he burst in and threatened Alak. Of course he’d never threaten her, even though she’d just as culpable as Alak is. She was shocked at first, unable to keep them from fighting, but eventually, between her and Quentin (and thank goodness he’s willing to help) and some of Alak’s Castithan friends, they broke it up and no one got hurt.

She rushed to Alak’s side as her brothers left, smacking the hand that had held the cold fire blade. “What the hell are you doing, you idiot? You could have gotten hurt. You could have hurt him. I know he’s an ass, but he’s still my brother!” She was shaking.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” Alak shoved the knife back into his pocket and took her hands in both of his, warming them. “I just freaked out when he started threatening me. I thought he was over that.” He took a deep breath, and she saw that he was nearly as shaken as she was. “I would have never hurt your brother. You know that.”

“Not until you got too pissed off to think straight. Or until he hurt you first.” She wasn’t under any illusions about Luke’s temper. Especially not after tonight.

He kissed her forehead. “I’m really sorry. I won’t let it happen again. Come on, Christie, let’s get out of here.”

She nodded. Getting away from the curious Castithans and the scene of the fight was probably a good idea. She leaned into him as he put his arm around her shoulders, and they walked away slowly.

“I just want to know when this is all going to end,” she whispered. “I hate having our relationship be a secret, even if it isn’t a very well-kept one. I hate being afraid that our fathers will flip out. I love you, and the last thing I want is to break up, but it seems like that would be the only way to make sure no one gets hurt.”

“Hey.” He stopped her. They were in the middle of town somewhere. It was dark. He bent his head and kissed her, long and gently. “We’re not going to break up. I love you, too, and love can endure anything, right?”

“Right.” She smiled. She didn’t even know if he could see her face—all she could see was the paleness of his eyes—but she knew he could hear the smile in her voice. They knew each other’s expressions so well. “Maybe we should just go somewhere else. Leave Defiance to the people who want to fight over it. Just be together.”

She could feel his muscles tighten. “I couldn’t do that to my parents,” he said in a low voice.

She sighed. “I don’t think I could do that to my family, either. But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

“Just you and me? Of course it’s a nice thought. It’s the best thought. In fact, I think I know where we can do that tonight.” He bent his head so his lips were against her ear, his breath gusting against the sensitive skin. “What do you think?”

A shiver ran over her skin, raising goosebumps everywhere it went. “Let’s go.”

—

Luke was dead. Lawkeeper Clancy was dead. And the Volge were coming to destroy Defiance.

But at least Christie and Alak didn’t have to keep it secret anymore.

—

After the battle—where neither of them, thankfully, were injured—they separated to tend to their own families and friends. But Christie couldn’t stop thinking about Alak. That wasn’t unusual, but now it seemed fresher, stronger; the brush with death, the fact that so many people they knew had died, made every human contact feel more important. Even if Alak wasn’t human.

She went to Edmund Grove to look for him and he found her in a field.

“Christie,” he said, his voice tight with excitement. “There you are.”

She couldn’t help grinning back, full of exhilaration. “What’s up?”

He pulled her into a tight embrace. “My father’s okay with it.”

“What?” She gaped up at him in complete astonishment.

He laughed with pleasure at her surprise. “My mother’s always been okay with it. And it turns out she’s convinced him. Maybe it was seeing you fight for Defiance—he thinks you’re good enough for me. Maybe he feels bad about Luke. It doesn’t really matter.” He let go of her, stepped back, and reached into his pocket. “Christie McCawley, will you marry me?”

She stared at his hand. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring, simple but expensive. “Is this for real?”

“Absolutely,” he murmured. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Christie. I want to be yours.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry and thought she might have been doing both. She lifted her hand and let him slip the ring onto her finger. He whispered something in Castithan. She didn’t even care what it was.

She was so happy.


End file.
